Story Reader / Main Story / 22 Renaissance du Fantastique / Story
...
The mechanoid vanishes from her sight as the darkness gradually recedes. This time, her consciousness is finally brought back to reality.
Ayla opens her eyes, disconnects from the device in silence, and puts it away.
Sica, who had been focused on the terminal beside Ayla, quickly stands up as she notices Ayla's movement.
Ayla, are you alright?!
While you were connected to that device, you couldn't hear us, and we had no idea what was happening to you...
Ah, I'm fine!
I just witnessed a piece of a brilliant theater play.
And... recalled some memories that had long been tucked away in the depths of her M.I.N.D.
Glad to hear that... Phew...
Standing against the wall not far away, Lena also hears the noise and glances in their direction.
Someone kept pacing around you, thinking you'd get stuck in that device. Watching her made my head hurt.
And someone got so antsy that she even started a countdown. You know, this device before you... this fake Hamlet? It would be blasted into pieces five and a half minutes later, if you hadn't come back to us.
I just didn't want to waste all my time here.
Ladies, sorry for worrying you all.
Ayla winks at Sica, wearing a gentle smile.
Thank you.
That girl who once stood behind the display table with dreary eyes is now a commandant fighting on the battlefield, seeking her own guiding light as she forges ahead.
Even though they still experience moments of uncertainty, even though they have stumbled countless times, the fervor blazing in their hearts has never waned.
But what about the figure concealed in the shadows? How long has he been searching, and what losses and experiences have compelled him to place his faith in the visitors to this place?
Has he been journeying all alone through countless questions and regrets?
Ah... It's not like I did anything...
I just suddenly feel very lucky that we could team up and fight together like this.
...!
With a beaming smile, Ayla lifts her hand to tuck some hair behind her ear.
...Well, the curtain has fallen, and the play has come to a successful conclusion, which means I've passed the trial, I guess?
About the intention of the mastermind behind the curtain... I think I may have picked up on some clues.
...
So, what's the plan now? We've been standing around here for nearly an hour, and nothing's changed so far.
No.
Ayla turns her head to glance at the theater's side door. Almost as if in response to her gaze, the tightly closed door opens with a clear beep.
The guiding lights illuminate beneath their feet, creating a pathway that stretches from the stage toward the dark end of the corridor behind the door.
Seems like they've even set up the sightseeing path for us this time.
Let's go.
Ayla picks up her gunlance placed aside and straightens her back.
Whether we can find the "answer" we seek at the end or not...
We must keep pressing on.
The corridor leading to the next exhibition hall is darker than the ones they've traversed. Amidst their footsteps, the only source of light comes from the guiding pathway stretching forward.
As they venture deeper, vibrant greenery starts to infiltrate their sight, making them wonder if seeds had accidentally found their way into the cracks of the city and thrived in this grey forest of concrete and steel.
The luxuriant green leaves appear to be shrouded in a faint mist, and they can even hear a gentle rustling sound as the wind brushes against the foliage.
I didn't expect to encounter such a view inside the museum...
So the next hall is... a botanical garden?
Wow, there are quite a few species here. This is a garden croton, that's a palm tree, and over there is a bird's-nest fern... Why does it seem a bit disorganized...
There are also sage and... hydrangea?
Ayla, you seem to know a lot about plants.
Well, you know, botany is a common theme for painters... and I just happen to have done some research on plants.
A friend of mine had a great passion for flowers, but she went to... somewhere really far away. When I helped her return the books she'd borrowed, I found a whole collection of botanical illustration books among them.
Unfortunately, a green thumb is not something everyone has—every plant she touched seemed to wither away. I tried to help her out with various solutions, but none of them really worked.
Ayla's gaze falls upon a small sprout nestled in a corner, her lips curling up in nostalgia.
If she were here to see these... Ah, I really shouldn't dwell on that right now...
How should I put it... Guess my eyes are too accustomed to battlefields and lifeless sculptures. Seeing these just... Huh?
Feeling a leaf brushing against her shoulder, Trojan reaches out and gives it a gentle rub.
It's a bummer that these aren't real plants. They are fake ones made of biomimetic materials.
As the next destination comes into view, Sica raises her head to gaze into the distance.
What awaits them at the end of the path is neither a magnificent theater nor a glamorous exhibition hall. All she can discern are the vague outlines of swaying tree shadows and the artificial sunlight flickering in between.
However, these are enough to trigger a vivid memory from her past.
No... This is...
Pulia Forest Park.
...
...
The mere mention of the name brings about a profound silence among all, burdened with the weight of its past.
—It marks the onset of the most significant crisis in human history. Within the depths of that deceptively innocuous forest, a calamity erupted, nearly shattering the hopes of all humanity.
